


Making Hell

by Morgan_0315



Series: Mini Stories [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Ghost trying to be a good father, Pain, destruction of a town, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_0315/pseuds/Morgan_0315
Summary: During L’manburg’s final moments, Wilbur manages to gain his memories to both yell at his father and save his three sons!
Series: Mini Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166300
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	Making Hell

Fire burned down buildings that were meant to symbol peace and love. A home for new starts and families. Ash rained from the sky similar to the bombs that buried the town in its own rumble and destruction. Monsters terrorized the last -surviving- members of that once beautiful and prosperous town. Monsters made of the souls of others who were hellbent on destruction and pain, blew up the already blown up town leaving the ground broken and unfixable. 

Cackling was heard above the destruction. Joy and insanity rang from the three separate laughs. Each one either happy or bitter over the destruction they had caused. Each one had waited to see the death of this great nation. Wanted to put an end to it, and they did.

Below them the remaining survivors fought for their lives against the monsters, bombs that buried them, and the ash that choked them. One of these survivors sat on an old partly destroyed van. This nation was born from the van, both of which were the last items he had of his brother. A man forced into insanity with the ludicrous words of a man warping his mind to believe his ideas.

He sat on the van watching the destruction with glazed over eyes. Pain from both hating the nation and loving it. He never wanted to see the nation destroyed, especially not after giving all his effort, lives, and loyalty to it and its people. He felt betrayed, but also felt as if it was deserved. He didn't know what to do so he sat. The memories of his brother were now gone, destroyed by his brother’s family. His friends were either dead or in pain, and he could help. He had no home now, not that it had been for the past few days he had stayed in the town wanting back after his long struggle of an exile.

If he could he would have cried or cursed at the men who destroyed what was left of his home, but the effort was to far from his reach. Instead he sat and watched from below as the men laughed triumphantly at the chaos formed from the destruction.

Next to the boy came another. A friend that had left but came back. He forgave but never forgot. His friend took a seat next to him staring out at the destruction. Tears weld up in their eyes and they hunched over collapsing on themselves as tears flowed. His friend doubled over with cries of pain and hurt. He watched before pulling him into a small reassuring hug. He gentle shushed the boy thinking back to all the pain he caused his friend.

"It's alright," he hummed gently. His voice was harsh and raspy from inhaling the smoke and ash dancing in the sky. The sobs quieted till he heard soft snoring from the boy in his arms. And that's what he was. A child. A small child forced to watch his nation burn to the ground with the hopes for a better future.

He gently rocked the boy humming a song that was built with the nation. He forced out the words despite how they hurt his throat. If his nation was going to die then so to would the song that gave them inspiration. 

As he sung the bitter song a crowd gathered to watch the boy sing for the last time. The crowd of hurt members of their great nation began to sing along however harsh their voices sounded. Those three men who watched the nation burn now watched as the last flame of defiance burned its self out with one last attempt. A bittersweet moment and a show of their pure control over the broken and destroyed country that can never recover from its damage.

"My L'manburg," the boy began to whisper the last versus, his loud obnoxious voice now to hurt to sing any louder then a whisper. "Wilbur's L'manburg," he forced the last verse trying to keep it steady and strong. He wanted everyone to hear his voice even if it meant he'd never be able to talk again. He wanted everyone to experience the pain he was in, that even he couldn't voice because he didn't know.

With the end of the song and the flame burning out, all that was left was a distant explosion and the empty silence that hung in the air between the two groups.

"Tommy?" A faint mumbled was heard and felt by his chest. A small face peaked out from the comfort of his chest to revel a red, tired face. Tears were no longer running but his face was stained with wet streaks from where they had been. Tommy couldn't reply so he shifted pulling away from Tubbo.

"It's gone," his voice wasn't as terrible as Tommy's or overused but the pain was evident with the hoarseness from the smoke. Tommy nodded as they watched the last of the bombs fall. The remaining people gathered away from the two, on more secure land near the steps to their houses.

"The memory of Wilbur," he whispered placing a hand on the van both of them sat on. The destruction of what was once their home hurt. They no longer had a home to go back to other then each other and that relationship was strained but certain.

"L'manburgs gone, with our tree," tears threatened to fall again, but tears had been shed enough for the now destroyed nation. He brushed away any tears and stood. His legs almost giving out with a headache threatening to do it as well. Tommy was next to him in an instant supporting both of their weights.

"Phil and Techno... they really did it huh," he tried to make light of the situation but his laugh came out more forced and similar to a huff. Tommy didn't answer. It wasn't often he was quiet so it was unsettling and worrying if there was two reason he wasn't screaming his problems into the faces of others.

"Our family is so fucked up," he glared up at the men who stared down below at them. Smiles and smirks stared down laughing at their pain.

"I told you I'd blow this nation up!" Dream laughed into their faces his mask a set reminder of how heartless the man was even when he wore a smile. How ironic. Tubbo glared at the man but knew he himself didn't have the power to hurt him or the others. Tommy just stared. Neither hate nor pain, just emptiness staring at a smile of pure insanity.

"This was all of your faults, you caused this in the end," Techno justified with his warped morals, at least he had something to live by other then plain anarchy. Philza shifted behind him, pure anger.

"This nation never had any support! It should've died the moment it killed my son!" He yelled down below. His anger was almost never seen. Those who knew him best knew he was pissed since that moment, but how were anyone really suppose to know if the man closed himself off to even his family? His voice continued to yell at the citizen of the ruined town. The town that 'forced' him to kill his son. The town, ‘built’ by his son. The town who forced his son into exile, even when he himself didn't visit. The town who housed and protected his grandson, the person he barely knew.

Though his words were contradictory, nobody spoke. They knew the unreasonable amount of pain they caused to others, even if the self acclaimed father of those it hurt were yelling those facts into their face.

"Stop," Tommy huffed loudly from beside Tubbo. Not having heard how distraught his voice was he immediately panicked while Phil quieten. "It's over, stop beating a dead horse," he growled glaring at the man before turning pulling Tubbo after him. Phil was going to make a remark before a ghost passed his vision.

He barely missed the items being thrown at his with surprising force by his dead son. The utter look of betrayal both confused and hurt his family. They had done this to take revenge for their son but he didn't clearly see it that way.

"Wil-" Phil's attempt to soothe his raging son was in vain as he slapped his hand away and cut him off.

"Are you blind!? Or are you mentally ill?! I think I know enough about being mentally ill to know you have some made up delusion of self justification!" Ghostbur screamed more defined words at his father then he had since he died. Ghostbur sounded more angry and upset over his fathers action then he should have been.

"This was their home! This was Tommy and Tubbos home! This was mine! And this was Friends!" He screamed at his family not even wanting to call them that.

"We had to! They need to learn! They hurt you Wil!" Philza argued back trying to comfort and soothe his son as Techno stared unsure of what to do about his nephew.

"I don't care! I deserved what I got but they didn't!" He growled. Those below were watching a shit show of a family but that didn't stop Tommy and Tubbo trying to get away from their outburst. "And you fucking team up with this monster!" He accused shoving his father away.

"We had the same goal, that's it." He answered stiffly. Wilbur didn't let him get the last word as a screaming match had now erupted into the skies.

"I know Tubbo and Tommy weren't technically family but they were kids! What about Fundy!? He was family! Why is it your with Techno?!" He challenged. He wanted answer to this shitty situation, even if the yelling match was going on in public.

"He didn't earn my trust! Techno did, and they attempted to kill him like they killed you!" He yelled back. Below them an orange fox flinched at his grandfather's words. He flattened his ears stalking off to Tommy and Tubbo. They were the closest family he had now other then his passed father.

"Fine! You don't give a shit about kids, you don't give a shit about Fundy, then what about me!?" Gold tears flowed down his cheeks the yelling match becoming quieter with each word. "Where were you when I needed you? Why was it I was only able to hear comforting words from those younger then me? I was suppose to be a father to those boys and I attempted to kill them multiple times," Wilbur admitted his mistakes even if he was justified in being insane and being controlled. "Where was my father for me up until I begged him to kill me? To take me away from the important role I had to be forced into, for three boys who could turn out like me!?" Though his voice had quieten he gained a second wind of fury.

"I'm sorry," Phil only managed to say before Wilbur floated down ignoring his father. He needed to be there for the three boys he had left due to his own inability to be there for. He continued to watch them even as a ghost but he had some help from a friend that understood his pain.

He glided towards the three boys, who now looked liked three men from all the pain and wars they had been forced to take part in. They were patching up their wounds, both physical and emotional. He felt sorry but knew that none of the boys needed pity but reassurance and help.

"Ghostbur," Tubbo mumbled, he wasn't sad. He was happy to see the ghost after he listened to him yell for their sakes. It was a sweet moment to see the man still care for the broken trio. Fundy gaze on his father wasn't sweet but it wasn't harsh like when he used to tell his son he couldn't remember any of what he had done. He wasn't the best father in the past but he'd be there for him now. Tommy stared at him blankly not sure of what to feel. He accepted the blank stare with hope that there could be a reform of a relationship.

The four of them would be a family despite the hell they were surrounded by. They'd be a family and support each other. And maybe, he'd find a way back to the world of the leaving and fully be there for each one?


End file.
